


Confusion

by qthelights



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-01
Updated: 2001-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:18:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qthelights/pseuds/qthelights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two options.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confusion

Josh was confused.

The only comfort in that, he thought, was that he was often confused and therefore it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. Though, was familiarity all it was cracked up to be?

He wanted to go on vacation. This much he knew.

He wanted to go on vacation with a beautiful woman. He knew that also.

The problem, and the reason for his confusion, was that he didn’t know which beautiful woman he should take on vacation. Let alone where to go.

Reclining in his chair, feet up, a long neglected report keeping the desk warm, he pondered his options. He did so seriously and with much earnest, for these were very tempting and important options indeed.

On the one hand, there was a blonde woman just outside his door. This woman could make him laugh. She could confuse him. Very much sometimes, but regardless, she made him laugh. Laughing was very important, for laughing relieved the stress of the world on his shoulders. Yes, Josh thought, laughing was a very important part of option one. As was the idea of the revealing of this woman. He knew her almost better than he knew himself, and yet he didn’t know her. He didn’t know her deepest desires, and he had barely seen the surface of the well that was her mind. She would reveal herself to him, slowly, cautiously.

This woman would want to go to Hawaii. She probably wouldn’t go anywhere else. But this woman would probably also wear a bikini, maybe even a skimpy one. And the thought of watching her skin, glowing as if reflecting pure light, bare solely for that skimpy bikini was quite appealing. As was the idea of what areas might be hidden under the material.

On a vacation, things were bound to happen after all.

Oh yes, he thought, leaning further back in his chair, things were just bound to happen. Things like running a hand up that smooth expanse of thigh. Things like dipping a finger under the soft cotton of the bikini to feel the concealed smoothness. And perhaps, just perhaps, removing that material completely. Yes, that was definitely an important factor for option one. Every day he saw her walking by him, and he wondered. He had to confess that he wondered.

A soft sandy beach, dusk sunsets of purples the color of grape skins and oranges so bright they filled the soul with seeping warmth. Resting next to this beautiful blonde woman, legs entwined in the sand and feet gently nudging each other, shoveling scoops of sand onto toes. Watching the soft breeze blow wisps of her hair to the side, letting him gently tuck them behind an ear, grazing her soft cheek as he did so, touching more than her cheek after that. She would be soft, careful, and her heart would fill his body with trust and love. Her calmness would melt into him, comforting him, soothing him and the sand beneath them would feel cool against their bare skin.

Yes, he decided. Option one was very appealing.

But then…what of option two?

Option two had sand also. Hot, musical, Tahitian sand. And option two had a beautiful woman like option one. A woman he had always wanted but never tried to hold onto, until now. A woman who he could probably never hold onto forever, but one he could grasp so tightly for a life giving moment.

A dark haired woman who would in all probability not wear a bikini at all if the occasion allowed. And the occasion would most probably be picked so that it would allow it. At least, if she had anything to do with it. She would do it, in the full knowledge of why she did it and why she knew she could do it. This woman was not like the other woman. She was more of herself; she knew who she was and what she wanted. She would take care of him, and she would make him take care of her if she so chose. For she was a real woman, not just a ‘successful woman’.

This woman would make him think. And think hard. He would constantly think, even while he was feeling, and somehow that wouldn’t be wrong or conflicting. It would be an enhancement, in a way he hadn’t thought possible in his youth. And while he was always thinking, she would somehow have him thinking the right things. Less romantic, and more romantic, thinking was definitely an important part of the second option.

The appeal was different for this woman, though no more clearly ‘more’ or ‘less’. It was not the desire to see new parts of her, as it was with the first woman, but the desire to see more of the parts he knew. Those parts of her that stimulated him and made his skin prickle with truth.

And in their hotel room, the gauzy curtains fluttering inwards with the hot tropical breeze, their skin moist with sweat and humidity, they would make love. This was certain, though strangely, that fact didn’t make the difference that it might have done once. She would be dark and passionate, and her skin would burn the oxygen around him. And when she collapsed on top of him afterwards and his muscles relaxed, his hands resting limply on her lower back, they would lie in rhythm. Not thinking.

It was very confusing, Josh thought.

He did not know which woman to take, nor which woman would want to go with him. Yet, he knew that he wanted to go, to go far away, with one of these beautiful women.


End file.
